The twenty-four ballads have become immortal and have resounded for countless spring, summer, autumn and winter...
It was late at night, and the cold moonlight shone on the ground and on his white clothes, giving off a faint chill. Lying in the grass, he put one hand under his head and gestured to the stars in the sky with the other. He suddenly smiled, it was very clear, as bright as the stars in the sky.
"Hey, do you want to hear a story?" He asked me, tilting his head, "otherwise it will be boring."
"Yeah." I took a sip from the wine jar and nodded.
"Then, let me tell you twenty-four stories..." He suddenly grabbed my wine jar and drank it hard, then laughed: "Not bad, Xiaoxian, good wine!"
I silently watched him finish the jar of wine and said, "Mr. Xingjun, it seems we are not here to drink."
He blinked and smiled at me: "Then what did I just say I wanted to tell a story? Haha..."
This is just a story I wrote for you...